Witches Knickers
The old lady made a brew
She called it magic, a potion stew
It made men wise, and made them kind
This little witch wasn’t the evil kind
She lured the wary, into her lair
She cooked up compassion with a flair
For every wrinkle, she had a smile
Her ginger house, was sought for many a mile
Love is magic as anyone knows
Her broom swept away, many a woes
In Ireland she sleeps, long since gone
So witches knickers, in memory, haunt on
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